About Face
by K Hanna Korossy
Summary: Dead Man's Blood missing scene: Dean's changed his tune about Dad, and Sam would like to know why.


**About-Face**  
K Hanna Korossy

"Dad's got that truck pretty kitted-out. You see the gear he's got in there?"

It was an odd thing to be discussing as they were heading through the woods in the dead of night to clean out a vampire nest, but Sam saw right through it. Dean was as nervous as he about leaving their dad without back-up as he went to trade his vampire hostage for the Colt, and was dealing with it the way Dean usually dealt with stuff: change the subject, preferably to something light.

Sam rolled his shoulders, loosening up for the fight ahead. "Machete envy, man?" he asked whimsically. Which wasn't _his_ way so much, but he hadn't been Dean's little brother twenty-three years for nothing.

"Yeah, right. Mine may not look as sweet, but she'll cut those vamps' heads off just fine."

Sam snorted softly and ducked a particularly low branch. Another six or seven minutes, he figured silently. With the vampires' enhanced hearing, they couldn't bring the Impala very close to the nest. Actually, in another few minutes they should probably be quiet, too, but… Sam cast a sidelong glance at his brother. However Dean chose to handle things, Sam usually preferred to talk through them, and the scene they'd just had with their father was gnawing at him.

Dean decided the matter for him. With an exasperated exhalation and without looking up, he asked, "What, Sam?"

Sam hesitated, unsurprised at his brother's perceptiveness, then took the plunge. "You stood up to Dad."

"Surprised I'm not just a mindless little soldier?"

Sam winced. Dean had to really be upset to bring up Rockford again. But Sam didn't think he was mad. Not at him, anyway. "I never said 'mindless,'" he protested softly. "A good soldier knows when to disobey orders."

Dean clearly wasn't sure what to do with that. Brow drawn, he held Sam's gaze a moment as he lifted a sagging branch out of both their ways. "There a point to this, or are you just trying to warn the vamps we're coming?"

"I've just never seen you say no to Dad," Sam answered.

"Yeah, well, I have. Lots of times. Even I don't think he's always right."

Sam looked at him curiously. "Like when?"

Dean had to think a moment. "Like when you were ten and wanted that birthday party, and Dad said we didn't have the money. Or when he wanted to leave town before you the play you'd been practicing for all month." Dean's voice lost a little of its stridency with each sentence.

Sam blinked at him. "I thought he just changed his mind."

"He did, after a little arguing."

"I don't remember that." Sam shook his head.

Dean gave him a sideways glance. "You weren't there for everything, Sammy."

Sam stared at his brother's back while they pushed their way through a dense patch of underbrush. Each time he thought he knew his brother, he learned something new. And it was always something that impossibly made his affection for Dean grow. Unfortunately, it was also the side of himself Dean kept the most hidden, Sam's older brother was far more willing to share his sexual conquests or how he'd outwitted the law than the good he'd done. Sam couldn't help wonder now if Dean had ever before stood up to their dad for himself, not just for Sam. Or if he'd even done so that day.

Sam cleared his throat, saw Dean brace for another probe. He deliberately lightened his tone. "You know what he told me?"

"What?" Warily.

"That he started a college fund for both of us when we were born."

Dean paused, hand on a branch to move it aside. "I never knew that."

"Yeah, well… He ended up spending it on ammo." He grinned to show he wasn't taking it wrong, and saw Dean's battle-face briefly crack, too. Sam sobered. "Seems like there's a lot we don't know about him, isn't there?"

"Sam…"

"I'm not complaining, Dean, it's just… He also said this wasn't what he'd planned for us. That he became our drill sergeant instead of our dad."

Dean was silent for a long moment, and Sam knew not to push. Finally, quietly, his brother said, "Dad did the best he could."

"I know." And it surprised Sam a little to realize he did. "Sometimes I just…"

Dean let it go a beat, then quietly echoed, "I know."

Sam eventually cleared his throat. "So, which one is it: we're stronger as a family, or Dad's stronger without us around?"

Dean's eyes were piercing when he turned back to him. "I always wanted us together, Sam." He faced forward again, returning his attention to blazing their trail. Sam had to strain to catch the rest. "Dad was the one who thought we made him vulnerable."

"But—" Oh. Another callback to their childhood: Dean echoing John's arguments to Sam because he knew Sam took them better from him than from their father. Sam should have figured that one out sooner, especially after Dean's choked admission in Chicago that he wanted the three of them reunited, a family again.

Sam didn't always understand or agree, but he did right now.

He spoke up quietly. "Are we just gonna leave Dad behind after we clean out the nest?" For once, he was willing to follow Dean's lead.

The brush had thinned, letting them walk side-by-side once more. Dean's eyes were stormy as they glanced over, then away. "No."

Sam nodded silent agreement.

They crossed the last patch of forest, then over and down the gentle rise abutting the abandoned barn the vampires had settled in. They crept up behind the one dusty, ancient car parked at the door, both of them checking for some kind of watchman, but there was nothing. They each took a deep breath, preparing for their lethal incursion, then Sam started to slip around the bumper of the car. He was stopped by a hand on his arm and, surprised, turned back.

Dean leaned in close. In deference to sharp vampire ears, his words were a bare breath. "This doesn't change anything, Sam."

Sam looked back at him, seeing the protector, comforter, and virtual parent of his childhood. He shook his head, smiling faintly. "No," he murmured. "It doesn't."

Dean held his gaze a moment, then squeezed his arm before releasing it and returning his attention to the barn. Sam followed suit, balancing the machete in his hand.

With silent synchronicity, they went in.

**The End**


End file.
